Sunday, August 7, 2011

The West Wing, Season 4: How Will Bailey Showed Me That Idealism is Dead

The more I watch "The West Wing", the more I realize it took place at the perfect time. Starting in 1999, the last couple Clinton years provided plenty of source material of a Democrat in the Oval Office for the show use without the topics seeming dated. They got a solid two seasons out of that. Then 9/11 happened and America's view of its place in the world changed dramatically. Our politics changed. Our political parties changed. Watching one administration operating in both the pre- and post-9/11 world highlights these transformations. And watching this fourth season ten years and hundreds of ugly political battles afterward, the incoherence and unprincipled nature of today's Democratic party becomes increasingly apparent.

After a third season that didn't quite continue the momentum of "Two Cathedrals", the fourth season (and final with Sorkin at the helm) hasn't disappointed so far (I'm two-thirds of the way through). Picking up sometime after the Democratic Convention, it's used the inherent drama of a presidential election to produce a string of episodes as enjoyable as any stretch in the series. The show's mix of humor and heart has always been a forte, but the campaign - with stakes not quite at life-or-death levels, but still high enough to ratchet the tension up to 9 - brings both out in droves.

Highlights galore: Toby, Josh and Donna trying to escape rural Indiana, Leo dealing with the aftermath of Shareef's assassination, and most satisfying of all, President Bartlet shredding Governor Richie in the debate, which was both awesome and cathartic at a time where our current president rarely drops the gloves in the face of idiocy.

But my favorite mini-arc came not in Washington, but California's 47th district. There, we meet Will Bailey, campaign manager for the recently-deceased Democratic candidate for Congress, Horton Wilde. Even without a living candidate, down double-digit points in the polls and operating in a district where a Democrat has never won, Will remains steadfastly committed to the campaign, inspiring his campaign staff to follow his lead. Will became the face of that campaign and busted his ass until the end. My two favorite quotes of his that aptly capture what makes him awesome -

In response to a reporter asking if campaigning for a dead man is "preposterous":
"[Opponent] Chuck Webb is a seven-term Congressman who, as chairman of not one but two Commerce sub-committees, has taken money from companies he regulates. He's on the board of the NRA and once challenged another Congressman to a fistfight on the floor, over an amendment to make stalkers submit to background checks before buying AR-15s, AK-57s, Street Sweepers, Mac-10s, Mac-11s. He's joined protests designed to frighten pregnant women...There are worse things in the world than no longer being alive."

To Sam, who keeps telling him that the campaign in a national embarrassment:
"There's a campaign being waged here, and I'm not embarrassed by it. There are things being talked about -- things you believe in, things the White House believes in -- and they're only gonna be talked about in a blowout, and you know it. And you know there's no glory in it."

Showing that type of commitment and effort even in the face of almost certain defeat is not only admirable, it's heroic. What drives Will Bailey is the same thing that drives anyone that has a passion for politics in American democracy - a dedication to issues that can help people and a deep-seeded desire to remove bad men from office and replace them with good ones. It earned him an electoral victory and an office in the west wing. If they have to replace Sam Seaborn's incredible intellect and idealism with someone, Will's the guy.

This all got me thinking about idealism in general. The way I see it, there are two different kinds. On the one hand, you have civic idealism - the type that Will Bailey showed during his campaign. He showed the American political system (the processes of governance and of electing officials to office) at its best. "The West Wing" frequently tackles questions related to this type of idealism and often to great effect, the entire Bartlet MS scandal being the best example. Civic idealism asks "How should our leaders act?", "What responsibilities do those in government have to the people they represent?" and "What is the proper balance for a politician between self-interest and the good of the country?". Using the MS scandal, should Candidate/President Bartlet have spoken up about his condition? When? What if it meant losing the election to an incompetent, dangerous opponent? With these issues, the person's party doesn't (or at least shouldn't) matter. Will Bailey's idealistic campaign would earn such a description regardless of its partisan affiliation.

On the other hand, you have partisan idealism. On this show, that almost exclusively means liberal idealism. Domestically, that means helping children and families, the poor and the middle-class, women and minorities. Internationally, that means defending the oppressed and bringing American values to those denied them. The passionate beliefs the characters on this show have about these issues and their willingness to fight for them relentlessly draws you in as a viewer almost immediately. Leo, the president, Sam, Josh, CJ and (in his own way) Toby are energetic, committed, and capable to an extent that, at least for me, borders on inspirational.

And this season, the genocide in Kundu has tested their commitment to that idealism with the question of the United States' role on the international scene in pursuit of those ideals taking center stage. With Toby and Will working on the president's second inaugural address, reports of rapidly accelerating death tolls reach the White House. Will has been pushing Toby to toughen up the foreign policy language, to chart a course for the new century of diplomatic relations based on American values, and an activist one at that. When the president shows up in his office asking why an American life is worth more to him than a Kundunese one, Will's answer (without stumbling all over himself!) is short but powerful: "I don't know, sir, but it is."

That's all the President needed to hear. He calls the staff into the Oval Office and tells them this:

"We're for freedom of speech everywhere. We're for freedom to worship everywhere. We're for freedom to learn... for everybody. And because, in our time, you can build a bomb in your country and bring it to my country, what goes on in you country is very much my business. And so we are for freedom from tyranny everywhere, whether in the guise of political oppression, Toby, or economic slavery, Josh, or religious fanaticism, C.J. That most fundamental idea cannot be met with merely our support. It has to be met with our strength. Diplomatically, economically, materially. And if pharaoh still don't free the slaves, then he gets the plagues, or my cavalry, whichever gets there first."

That's liberal idealism to the max, no? The fundamental rights that we hold so dear should not belong only to those lucky enough to live in America, they should belong to everyone. And if someone tries to stand in the way of those rights, we'll go right through them. In many ways, it's a lovely thought. And before 2001, it's likely that more liberals than conservatives (or Democrats than Republicans, if you prefer) subscribed to it. But now? They're battling to a scoreless tie. The war in Iraq and the string of shifting justifications for it sullied the good name of humanitarianism in American politics. Although tacked on after the preemptive strike argument went out the window, securing freedom for the Iraqi people quickly became the dominant rallying cry for continuing the war. Every time politicians pimped Iraqi liberation while searches for WMDs came up empty and more and more soldiers came back in body bags, America's appetite for sacrificing to bring our values to others decreased to the point where it's now almost nonexistent. Democrats ran from it in opposition to George W. Bush. Republicans ran from it to distance themselves from him. Bush wanted democratic peace in the Middle East as his legacy. I'd argue no man did more to harm the chances of that happening than he did. We don't have the stomach for it anymore.

The answer to President Bartlet's question about the worth of an American life versus a Kundunese life seemed simple to me: he's the President of the United States, not president of the world. Going back to political idealism, he has a responsibility to those that elected him. But as a human being, such thinking is mere tribalism. And, though a very human impulse, it's completely inhumane. Jed Bartlet, a religious man, a compassionate man, cannot stand by and watch such atrocities happen when he believes he has the power to stop them. For that, he should be admired. But as a viewer, after 10 years of war, it's not easy to feel that way. We instinctively ask ourselves "How much money is this going to cost?", "How long are we going to be there?", "How many of our soldiers will die?". Rightly so. But I get the feeling that our tolerance for hearing those questions answered as anything other than "not much", "not long" and "none" is lower than ever. Personally, I'm no exception. But as a Democrat, thinking about how we used to strive to a beacon of hope on the world scene, it makes me sad. Lacking the willingness to fight for our values for others cheapens them a bit.

Of course, things are much simpler on TV. We don't have to worry about what the Kundunese are going to do with the arms we give them ten years down the road because 1) we don't live in that world and 2) the show will be off the air by then. So it's easier to back President Bartlet's move in Kundu than President Obama's in Libya (and the recession certainly doesn't help the latter's, either). But it remains interesting to me how one of the tent poles of the Democratic party's foreign policy has been pulled right out from under them. What do Democrats stand for internationally that differentiates them from Republicans? Domestically, same story. Can we really say Democrats stand for social welfare when we extend tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans while offering little plan to help those hit the hardest by the recession? Challenges tend to test the strength of convictions. The difficulties we've faced over the last decade have exposed the weakness of those convictions, and for Democrats, it only appears to be getting worse.